F*ck me

Fuck me where you work.

Fuck me on your desk, on the scattered pages of my manuscript; Fuck me.

Lay me over your mahogany desk and plough into me with your instrument

Carve your words on my insides, as the sweat from our bodies mingle

The pages of my manuscript stick to me,

Your words now etched in me, on me.

Fuck me.

And when I climax, my screams will be the heralding call to pick up the pen,

and write a haiku in my honour.

Sweat, saliva, tears

Pain and pleasure, gasps and screams

Form speech only you can decipher

I can no longer breathe, but please don’t stop

Fucking me.

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